Page 258 of Off the Pitch

I still did regular shows for the Daaé Gallery, given that I owed Hélène a lot of my success, even if I didn’t quite need to do them as much as I used to. I’d been very lucky in that regard too. Apparently, quite a lot of people liked my work.

A voice from the other side of the garden called Hugo’s name, and I looked up to see Jordan waving at him, beckoning him over.

“It looks like you’re being summoned, beloved. Maybe Jordan has gotten bored of getting his butt kicked by children.”

“I mean, it’s Jordan, that’ll happen anyway,” Hugo said with a laugh. He stood up and gave me one last kiss. “Back in a minute.”

I watched him go. It was impossible not to.

* * *

Hugo

I jogged across the garden to where Jordan, Liam, and the kids were gathered. The dogs had finished zooming around, and Tigger had flopped in the shade, watching while Nessie and Pig went in search of attention and food.

Liam was currently trying to show the kids how to do keepie uppies although he kept dropping the ball. I thought it was probably deliberate because I’d seen him do them for hours in the past. Then I heard Cian excitedly cry out that he’d managed to do more than Liam, and a small smile crossed my face. Jordan grinned and gave me a sneaky high five and a half hug.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“How do you fancy being goalie?” Jordan grinned. “I know the food’s almost ready, so I figured we’d end with a classic penalty shootout.” He lowered his voice. “And I’m a fucking awful goalie, so I thought I’d ask you.”

“Are you saying that even though I’m retired, I’m still better than you?”

“I mean, like, only as a fake goalie.”

“Just because you won the Golden Ball, doesn’t mean you’re better than us,” Liam chimed in with a cheeky smile. The Golden Ball was an award given at the World Cup Final to the outstanding player of the tournament, which the FIFA technical committee had decided was Jordan. We were all incredibly proud of him, but also concerned about what it might do to his ego. Still, it was fun to take the piss out of him.

“Um, I think you’ll find it really does, mate. You win a Golden Ball, then we’ll talk,” Jordan said, kicking a spare ball at Liam.

“Still the stupidest name for a trophy,” I muttered, and Jordan laughed.

“Mate, you oughtta see it. Félix said he’s never seen a trophy look so phallic. He put it up in the living room, and every time he sees it, he snorts.”

“I love that your partner has the sense of humour of a twelve-year-old,” I said.

“I know. It’s awesome.” Jordan clapped me on the shoulder, then handed me a pair of gloves he’d somehow procured. “C’mon, goalie.”

“You know, David was trained as a goalie. Why aren’t you dragging him in?” I asked, heading for the small goal that was set up on one side of Christian’s garden. I was protesting, but I didn’t mind. I loved playing with the kids, and it wasn’t the first time I’d been pulled in to be goalkeeper.

Jordan shrugged. “He’s busy doing host shit. Besides, it’s more fun to drag you in.” He turned to the assembled group. “Okay, penalty shootout! Hugo’s gonna be goalie, and if you can get one past him, Uncle Félix will buy you all ice cream and sweets from the shop.”

Liam opened his mouth in a moment of parental protest, then quietly closed it again. He gave me a look that said ‘please don’t let Félix buy my children sweets’, but I’d already decided I had absolutely every intention of letting the kids win.

If Kit and I were the vaguely responsible uncles of our friendship circle, albeit ones who did things like ice cream and French toast for breakfast sometimes, Jordan and Félix were the uncles who were happy to stroll in, cause chaos, and leave again. The kids all adored them for that reason, and the parents all let out a heavy sigh whenever Félix arrived saying, ‘I bought you a present’. I still wasn’t sure if Liam had totally forgiven Jordan and Félix for getting Naveen a drum kit for his fourth birthday.

It was the same level of grudge David still held over Elsie’s baby trumpet.

The kids all lined up, following Liam, who said he’d go first. I grinned at him from my place between the goalposts. The goal wasn’t full size, so it wasn’t that hard to protect, and while I’d mentally decided to let the kids win, Liam and Jordan were getting no such grace.

Liam kicked the ball towards me, and I batted it away to the sound of cheers from the rest of the group. Liam gave me a look, and I just shrugged.

“Wow, you suck now,” I said as I rolled the ball towards him. “Are you sure you won the World Cup?” Liam mouthed “asshole” at me and grinned. I smiled and waited for Cian to take his shot. This was going to be fun.

By the time Christian, Ali, and the other parents called their kids over, everyone had managed to get at least one shot past me except Liam and Jordan, which they seemed to think was both hilarious and infuriating.

Félix sat at the large table in the sun, chatting with a very heavily pregnant Harper and Kit, who had Pig in his lap. Jordan flopped down in a spare seat next to him and grinned. “You owe every kid at this table sweets and ice cream. Can I borrow your wallet?”

“What did you do?” Félix asked with a wry smile, and Jordan explained.

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